Stolid
by blondie2
Summary: semi-sequel to "It's Never Gonna Happen"As Chloe's problem worsens, she finds herself having to deal with the problems of others as well.


Stolid by blondie  
  
*all reviews are welcome-even you wanna tell me how much it sucks*  
  
*I wrote this-it came from my own jacked up mind*  
  
*please don't steal it or post it anywhere without telling me*  
  
*I don't own these characters* *this kinda follows my fanfic "It's Never Gonna Happen"*  
  
****  
  
*Chloe*  
  
It hadn't really been a bad day.  
  
I had walked through the halls, laughed in most of my classes, finished The Torch before 5pm, and even had a few hours to do whatever I wanted before I went to bed..so I did. I watched TV and read a book and I didn't think about it.the thought didn't cross my mind.until now.  
  
Until I had laid in bed for two hours, unable to sleep and thought about all that had gone that day. I thought about all my sarcastic comments, that although meant for comic relief only, might have actually hurt someone. I thought about all the times I almost broke out into tears for no real reason. I thought about how I got to play fifth wheel during lunch, as I had for months now, while couple A( Clark and Lana) and couple B(Pete and the flavor of the month) joked and flirted and subconsciously acted like I wasn't even there. The occasionally times I did mention the awkwardness I felt around, they'd suggest I got a boyfriend, or at least went out on a date.  
  
"The last date you went out.I can't even remember the last date you went out on Chloe!" Pete would laugh off. I'd smile, and laugh at myself because I couldn't remember either.  
  
Not long after Clark and Lana had become official Pete had taken to always having someone on his arm.when you finally remembered her name and began to like her was when Pete knew it was time to dump her.  
  
There I laid still. Don't do it. It's been months now.that's a record for you.you're the one in control. You decide how you feel. But I didn't, and I knew in the black of my head that it would make me feel better.  
  
It had all started about a month after Junior*~* year had started. School had become to take it's toll on me, but I had finally gotten adjusted to a set schedule. I was hoping everything would just fall into place from there but it didn't.  
  
I started having trouble sleeping. Nothing worked. Not music or foods or stretches. I laid in bed for hours and if I was lucky got two hours a night. Even on weekends, I would be exhausted from everything but still laid in bed for hours. At least then I would be able to stay in bed till noon, not really catching up on sleep but at least getting in enough hours to get me through the week. It wasn't till I was doing a research paper on it that I even considered doing it. I was always somewhat fascinated by it and reading again and again how these people did it because in a sick and twisted way.it made them feel better.  
  
I didn't do it on the worst day of my life. I didn't do it because some big breakdown I had or some repressed memory. Clark had been with Lana for months at the time and anything worth repressing I had simply blocked out. I did it because I was curious. Yeah, blame it on the reporter in you. I had felt like shit for awhile and I didn't know why or what to do about it. So I tried it. I tried it and I felt stupid. I had to press so hard to make anything happen and it stung and I didn't really feel better afterwards.  
  
A few hours later I wanted to do it again.  
  
The first razor I had used had been stripped from an old disposable razor of mine. I spent a good twenty minutes cutting off all the plastic so I just had the tiny razor blade. It wasn't that sharp and barely made me bleed.  
  
I had started off just doing it the same exact place over again.a little cut on the inside of my left forearm that no one would ever question or think twice about. After a few times, I couldn't keep doing it there. I wanted a new place to slice and dice.someplace where I could have more freedom to go deeper and longer.  
  
My arms was out of the question. Most of my shirts had short sleeves and I didn't want to deface my arms. So I went for a place that I already hid from the world. My inner thighs, covered with stretch marks of normal high school weight gain, had never been seen by the public. Each year they seemed to get worse and worse, and I figured that if I was already hiding them, I might as while cut in a place was already hidden from the eyes of the world.  
  
So I walked out of my bed to my closet, in a little box hidden among books and clothes and other random boxes, was my exacto-knife. I had learned the first time I tried with it, that it's sharpness was a quality that required next to know effort. Whereas I had to shove that tiny razor into my arm, I could ever-so-lightly glaze this on my leg, and there was blood. Never enough blood to make me worry, but always enough to get me light-headed enough to fall to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  
  
I wasn't proud of what I did, but it helped me sleep at night.  
  
***** I was sitting in The Talon the next afternoon, working some stupid essay for my eccentric Honors English teacher when I heard a voice, low and dark whisper in my ear "Cover page on how Lionel Luthor was really killed by the meteor rocks?"  
  
I jumped about a foot in the ear, only to turn around and see Lex smirking at me, "You startled me."  
  
"I'm sorry, but I knew I would have to say something drastic to distract you long enough to say hello." I hadn't seen Lex in a few months. He had been flying in and out of Metropolis dealing with his dying father. Now that the funeral and paper work was done and over with, I had to wonder what the hell he was still doing in Smallville.  
  
"How are you? How was the funeral? What are you still doing in Smallville, aren't there bigger cities for you to conquer on your World Domination list?" he laughed, a nice hearty laugh that I had never heard from him.  
  
"But that's how it's done Chloe, first you conquer the small towns, then the big cities, states, countries.you get the idea." He smiled again and I felt strangely comforted in his presence. Lex was wearing his typical black designer pants and jacket, with a very comfortable looking and tight sweater underneath his jacket. I couldn't help noticing it when he removed his jacket, and set it on the back of his chair.  
  
"Whatever you say Hitler." He smirked at that, cracked his neck, licked his lips and bite back.  
  
"Just call me Lex the Great." It would have appeared to Lex and everyone else that I was laughing at what he had said, but it was only as he had said it that I had heard, across the room "You're breaking up with me, for your cousin?!" "It's legal in Kansas!"*~*  
  
Luckily, Lex had heard it as well and laughed again, that rare genuine laugh. He then stood up and said something about getting back to work.  
  
"I'm pretty sure Napoleon didn't take coffee breaks." Before he walked away he put his hand on my shoulder gently but firmly.  
  
"Come by the mansion sometime soon. It seems like forever since we've really talked." Since when had we really talked? I watched him walk away, wondering if I would take him up on that offer.  
  
*****  
  
A few days later and I was laying in bed again, trying to hold myself back, trying to convince myself that I could sleep without it. I had just sat up to get my knife when I heard a light knocking on my door.  
  
"Come in?" I asked skeptically, wondering if I had actually heard knocking or it was another side effect of insomnia and blood loss.  
  
Lana walked in, and even in the darkest of my room, I could tell she had been crying.  
  
"Lana, what's wrong?" As much as I wanted to hate her, we had both gotten over petty disputes of the past. I had actually grown somewhat attached to her since she had moved in with me.  
  
"Oh Chloe.Chloe.I need your help. I'm coming to you because I know you'll help me and if you didn't, I know you still wouldn't tell anyone." I wondered for a second if she had a secret that rivaled mine, if we would be roommates even in some teen rehab center.  
  
"Lana, I'll do whatever I can to help you. You can trust me.no matter what."  
  
Lana sat down next to me on my bed. She looked into my face for a second. Her eyes overflowed with tears and she looked away.  
  
"Chloe, I'm pregnant."  
  
*~* Think that the events in "It's Never Gonna Happen" occurred during their sophmore year in high school.  
  
*~* I have no idea whether or not this is true. 


End file.
